


well...

by ughfitz (wokemeup)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers, Team as Family, Team mourning, post 5x22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wokemeup/pseuds/ughfitz
Summary: Mack grapples with the events of 5x22.Major spoilers for the episode.





	well...

**Author's Note:**

> Major thanks to agentcalliope for looking over this (on Facebook Messenger, no less) and flailing, as well as dilkirani for the edits/comments (that made me cry/laugh).

_ Well...everyone dies. _

 

_...everyone dies. _

 

_ dies _

  
  


_ dies  _

  
  
  


_ dies.  _

  
  


The words still echo in his mind, leaving a bitter taste of disdain, regret and sorrow that settle on his tongue. 

 

True, everyone dies. But in the moment, he had meant it in a more grand scheme sort of way, a more,  _ I’m trying to understand things, _ kind of way. 

 

He hadn’t meant to forecast events. Never. That wasn’t his place, his right. And yet, he couldn’t rid himself of that heavy weight of regret. The slew of silent prayers of penitence to God, of prayers for some miracle to take back his words and rewind the moments that had led to this moment, did nothing to ease the pain that ached its way through his heart, his soul. 

 

_ Well...everyone dies. _

 

When he had first met Fitz, the people around him were in mourning. At least, that’s what it felt like at times. They were mourning Our Fitz, struggling to come to terms and understand this new,  _ changed _ , Fitz. 

 

It hadn’t mattered to Mack, of course. He’d never known  _ Our Fitz _ , he had only known the man who stayed more to himself and liked to work in the garage with old blues tunes whistling quietly in the background. When Mack first arrived on base, he wasn’t in mourning; rather, he was intrigued by the guy everyone whispered about. 

 

The man was smart, incredibly so.

 

He was innovative—his hands, though shaky, created things Mack had never even thought possible. 

 

And boy could that guy crack some jokes. The little slips of whispered jokes or offhand comments Fitz made to him when they were knee deep in a project never ceased to make him laugh.

 

He never mourned  _ Our Fitz _ , never needed to. He didn’t understand the team’s frustration or sadness. He couldn’t quite grasp why they couldn’t just accept Fitz for who he was. 

 

Fitz, or rather  _ Turbo _ , was changed, sure, but he was alive and breathing and still changing the world in only a way Fitz could. 

 

And when he had first met Simmons, again, he couldn’t quite understand her.

 

Thinking back on the interactions now, he regretted the way he had brusquely talked with her. He hadn't meant for it to be so cold, of course. But she had been yet another person to add to the list, he felt, that just couldn’t accept Turbo for who he was. 

 

He had failed to see her trauma, failed to consider the thick fog of disdain, regret, and sorrow she was trying to make her way through.

 

_ Well...everyone dies. _

 

Watching the light fade from Fitz’s eyes was more painful than Mack could have ever thought possible. The pain he felt in his heart was literal, the deep ache seeping into every pore of his body.

 

For a moment, he and May sat in the dusty, rubble-filled room, the noise of a chaotic outside and the sobs (though both quietly stumbling out of his and May’s mouths) creating a symphony of sorrow. 

 

Lifting up the broken body—Fitz’s weight nothing compared to the heavy burden of emotions bearing down on him—he walked them back to their ride, the shocked look of the others blurring as he passed by, though Mack barely registered them.

 

_ Well...everyone dies. _

 

When he walked into the room, her smile instantly reminded him of Turbo. Their twin looks of never-ending curiosity, eyes blazing with ceaseless questions (sometimes alarming him with the potential mess they might make) always made him a little proud that despite everything, they never lost their faith in science, or more importantly, each other.  

 

Now, though, it just made him sad. 

 

He didn’t need to say anything, almost as though Fitz,  _ Their Fitz _ , was somehow making his presence known one final time and lending his ability to speak paragraphs with Jemma without the need for a single syllable to be uttered.  

 

She collapsed in his arms, pulling them both to the ground. Broken sobs wracked them both, her pain so palpable, so expansive and unbearable, Mack prayed he could take some modicum of it away. 

 

When her breaths settled into strangled hiccups, and her body sagged against him with her full weight, he picked her up and began to carry her back. 

 

He was nearing their bunk, room number nine which had always been kept neatly clean by Jemma and filled with only had a handful of clothes draped over the sole chair in the room by Fitz, when he heard her whisper a low, “No.” 

 

Not knowing where to go, he turned around and wasn’t surprised to find May standing there. 

 

The two of them took Jemma back to May’s room and settled her down on the small bunk, though Jemma’s devastated body looked even smaller than the mattress that held her.

 

He stayed at the door for several moments watching May cradle Jemma in her arms, gently rocking her, soothingly caressing her head and whispering words of what Mack assumed were exactly what Jemma needed to hear. 

 

He sighed, well...everyone dies. But  _ goddammit _ , not everyone deserves to die so soon. Certainly not  _ His Fitz _ .

 

_ Well...everyone dies. _

 

It had taken longer than any of them had wanted, but finally, they found him. 

 

After Fitz had returned to the base, after the hugs and tears, Mack was taken back to years before, and he suddenly understood. 

 

_ His Fitz _ had gone through so much with the team, had fought, had been broken, had won. 

 

This Fitz wasn’t privy to any of that, he had missed all of the highs and all of the lows.  

 

And as he looked around and saw some of the same looks the team had given  _ Our Fitz _ all those years ago, unintentionally, of course, Mack knew what his job was.

 

He said a silent prayer for guidance and strength, but felt it deep in his bones this was what he needed to do. 

 

So, even when he felt himself longing to talk with  _ His Fitz _ , to clear things up and move past the anger and fighting, he pushed forward, accepted the changes, and worked to make the transition for this Fitz as seamless as possible.

 

And the times when he saw Simmons struggle, the conflicting feelings of sorrow and excitement filtering across her face, he’d stop and talk with her. Afterall, he knew what it was like to mourn the ones you love, to mourn the  _ what was  _ and _ what could have beens.  _

 

The world was a ceaseless place of disdain, regret and sorrow. But, it was also a wonderful place of brilliance, wonder, and love. 

 

And, yes, everyone dies. But having witnessed so much death, having let it consume him at times, Mack actively chose to live his life with all of the love, all of the  _ hope _ he possibly could. 

 

_ Well...everyone dies but not everyone truly lives  _ (and Mack was going to make damn certain he truly lived his life). 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're still grappling with the events of 5x22, I feel you. At any rate, thanks for reading this little bit. Comments and kudos are appreciated.


End file.
